I knew you'd come
by alisseadreams
Summary: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONCNICA! Dean Winchester wasn’t angry. He was well past pissed. Somebody had took his brother and he was going to pay for it. Just wait. HurtSam and angry/protective Dean.
1. Chapter 1

I Knew You'd Come

**HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SONCNICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here it is my present for you****. I hope you'll enjoy it. I just can't believe it had been nearly a year since we met and become really close friends (and I thank to whoever is listening for every single day I get to enjoy your friendship). I can only hope for lots of more years togeher. You're a great friend. Please, don't change. Love ya Ally.**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Dean Winchester wasn't angry. He was well past pissed. Somebody had took his brother and he was going to pay for it. Just wait. HurtSam and angry/protective Dean.

**Spoilers:** This story happenes in the first season. I don't think there's any spoilers, but I'm warning to be safe.

**Warnings: **In this story, there's lots of blood, cursing words, violence and some graphic details about injuries and torture. If you don't like this kind of things, please, don't read any further.

**Disclaimers: **I don't own anything!! All the things that you recognize belong to the show and its owner. I made this story for fun and not for money. The only thing I own is my dreams and my crazy imagination. I own Doctor Delis, his character is based on the best mentor I have ever had so far. He's one of the best doctors out there.

**Author's note:** I would like to thank Newspaper taxis for lots of things: For including me in this "challenge", for being my beta, for helping me to write the torture scene (God knows how bad I'm at them), for showing me the right way when I have lost myself in my crazy ideas. And the most important thing, for putting up with me and my thousand mails and for having faith in me. You've been great this week and I hope that we can keep the contact and get to know each other best.

THANK YOU!

Now with the story..........

* * *

Dean Winchester, one of the best hunters of the supernatural out there and awesome big brother, was quite angry. Well, not just angry, he was well past pissed, to say the least. He hasn't had a good week and something, or, preferably, someone was going to pay for it.

It all started when he and Sammy had to drive over 300 miles to get to the coordinates their missing father had sent them again, Sam sulking and ranting about their father's methods every inch of the way. Don't get him wrong...the kid meant the world to him, but all of this shit between them was getting a bit old and he was sick and tired of being the one stuck smack in the middle, forced to choose sides.

Then, he had spent a couple of days locked in their motel room at a small boring town. _For Heaven's sakes, Three thousand inhabitants and not even one bar. Seriously?_ Dean had griped while they conducted some research. It seemed that something was abducting people and torturing people to death. Then, the corpses appeared without any blood left in them.

After all that, they had to go through the forest for hours under the blazing sun, sweating like pigs, looking for the forest spirit that was responsible of all of this.

And it all culminated when he made the mistake of splitting up with Sam hoping to ambush it. Only the "it" had been a "he," in the form of a crazy, sadistic wizard who was waiting for them. Everything had been a trap and by the time Dean had realised his mistake, his brother was gone.

So, yeah, he was pissed and that fugly was going to pay, you just wait.

Now, a day and a half later, and still no sign of his brother, Dean was fuming while going through the forest following the strange symbols carved in the trees and rocks. He was hoping they would lead him to the ritual place where he could find Sammy. Alive.

He was once again contemplating how he was going to rip apart every limb of that bastard when he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Something that froze his blood and make his heart drop to somewhere in his stomach.

Something so painful that made him want to curl up in a ball and howl.

It was a scream, but not any scream. It was Sammy's. Loud, terrified, and full of pain.

And he was calling for the only thing he needed in that moment.

"DEAAANNNN!!!!!!!"

Then, silence fell upon the forest.

And Dean ran.

* * *

Sam Winchester was way past hungry or thirsty or feeling pain. He had been hanging from this tree for God only knew how long and now he just didn't care anymore. Even his bloody wrists and dry cracked lips didn't bother him anymore. He knew he was going to die, it was only a matter of time.

That man—or if you can still call him human after knowing what he does—had appeared from nowhere, knocked him unconscious and dragged him to this clearing with a lonely tree in the dead center of it. And after hanging him by his wrists, he just disappeared, leaving the young man under the blazing sun.

He had thought that he was just going to wait for his brother to come to the rescue. But he had been wrong.

So wrong.

When the wizard returned, some time later, all hell broke loose.

Sam would never remember, later, exactly how the wizard got into the space. One minute the clearing was empty, the next, the robed, hooded man was standing a whisper away from him. Silently, the wizard reached up a hand and broke off a branch from the tree. Taking several steps away from him, the wizard suddenly whirled, swinging the branch like a baseball bat. It smashed into Sam, the force of the blow taking all of his breath away, and splintered. Gasping, blinking grey from his vision, Sam knew that he had felt something more than the branch break, that his side was now radiating red-hot pain.

"Why?" He breathed out, struggling to understand.

The wizard said nothing and just tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe. When he pulls them out, they are bright with fire and Sam screamed as the flaming hands pressed against his torso. Then nothing…

But the evil bastard didn't stop there. No, first he brought Sam back to awareness by dumping a bucket of cold water over his head. Sputtering and gasping, still feeling the effects of the broken ribs and subsequent burning, Sam was lucid enough to notice on the long, skinny, black whip in the wizard's hand. But Sam was so focused on trying to manage the pain that he was barely conscious of the hot, hard whip singing in the air before it landed on his open back, slicing it open and causing excruciating pain with each impact. Sam had no idea how many he withstood—Three? Five? Ten?—before plunging into the sweet, merciful darkness of unconsciousness.

When the wizard grew tired of the game, he just left, leaving Sam bloody and weak. As night fell, Sam shivered in the merciless cold brought by the rising moon, his only company.

* * *

Sam passed the next day all alone under the unforgiving sun, praying to God that Dean had a plan and was coming because he didn't know how much more he could endure. But there was no answer and the wizard came back at nightfall with a sharp silver dagger with him.

At that moment, Sam lowered his head, resigning himself to his fate. But the wizard hadn't finished with him yet. Now, that psychopath was carving some signs in his chest and belly while his blood poured from his body and pooled under his feet. All the time, he was chanting something in a strange language.

Despite the hot knife, Sam refused to scream and give the wizard the pleasure of knowing how much he was hurting him. He was a Winchester and Winchesters always went down fighting and with dignity. Sam could feel himself rapidly fading, bright spots dancing in front of his vision, and he thought of the one person who would save him.

Dean. His big brother.

That thought make him smile a little despite the blinding pain he was in.

"What are you smiling about, boy?" the wizard had finished his chanting and was now looking intently at him.

"My brother."

"He's not going to arrive in time. There's nothing or nobody that can stop me."

"It doesn't matter. He'll come, and when he gets here he's going to rip you apart." Sam paused to draw a painful breath and, then, a childhood memory popped up in his mind, feeding his last forces, "He's Batman." And he gave the wizard the patented sarcastic Winchester smirk.

"You can smile all you want boy, but I'm finished here and once I have spilled all of your tainted blood in this sacred ground, the devil that inhabits this forest will recompense me."

Suddenly, the wizard stabbed Sam in his left shoulder, thrusting it to the hilt, twisting it, and finally drawing it out slowly. Immediately, a thick river of dark blood began to leave the young hunter's body while the puddle of blood at his feet spread with each passing second. The pain that filled him was so intense that his last defences crumbled down. So, in his last moment, before consciousness fully left him, the only thing that Sam could do was release a last cry for help:

"DEAAANNNN!!!!"

And darkness claimed him.

* * *

When Dean arrived at the opening, he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing: Sam, unconscious and hanging from a tree by his wrists, feet not touching the ground, covered in more blood that he had ever seen and that son of a bitch with a dagger in his hand ready to give the fatal blow.

And Dean saw red.

"You son of a BITCH! Get the hell away from my brother!"

The older hunter threw himself at the wizard, his only goal was to kill the bastard who had hurt—_not killed, because he couldn't stand the idea of being too late_—his little brother.

The two men began a long and merciless fight, one with a bloody dagger in one hand and other with nothing but his bare hands—he didn't need anything else. There were punches, kicks, cuts. For a time, the two were evenly matched, but, with a well aimed thrust at the wizard's nose, the crunch of bone, the dagger switched hands and was now in the power of one very furious big brother. One thing was sure; the now bloody and trembling wizard had never known a rage like that.

"Please..." he begged, but it was no use, the hunter wasn't having anything to do with it.

"Nobody hurts my brother." And with that, Dean stuck the dagger deep in the wizard's heart, the fugly dead before he hit the ground.

Now that the threat was over, a new adrenaline rush hit Dean like a punch followed by a wave of panic.

"Sammy!"

He took off his leather jacket and laid it on the ground near where his brother was hanging and then he approached his still form, not knowing if he was still alive. He cut the ropes and lowered him down to the ground gently, lying him on the jacket so his sliced back wouldn't touch the dirt, all the time muttering softly his brother name over and over again.

"Sammy, Sam, Sammy..."

The older brother would have almost liked to take him in his arms and cradle him like he did when they were really little and Sammy was sick or scared, but his brother's injuries required immediate attention and if he was rocking him in his arms, they couldn't be treated properly.

Pressing his fingers to Sam's pulse point, Dean prayed silently to whoever was listening that he haven't been too late, and for the first time in a long time someone had been listening because he could feel the faint and way too fast pulse. That meant his brother was going to shock, but at least he was alive.

Then, visually assessing his brother, he began cataloguing Sam's injuries, trying to work efficiently without giving into the growing panic. If he hesitated, his brother would die. Dean was very sure of it.

_God, there's so many injuries and so much blood...please Sammy, don't leave me, not like this, not just after finding you, please..._ Dean thought while he tried to decide where to start.

The most obvious being the stab wound on the left shoulder. The older hunter didn't think it had hit anything vital, but it was bleeding like hell, so he stripped off his flannel overshirt, ripped it apart and wadded it and pressed it hard on the wound with one hand hoping to stop the blood flow. This last action made Sam groan and his eyes slid open, vague and unfocused.

"Shhh tiger, it's OK. I gotcha. I'm here, OK?"

"De..." a coughing fit interrupted him, and Dean tried to steady him so he wouldn't injure himself further "Dean, don't leave me please."

That simple plea broke the older brother's heart and threaten to bring tears to his eyes, but he blinked them back. Dean Winchester didn't cry specially if his brother needed him, so he tried to soothe him, running a hand across his hair while with the other one was still applying pressure.

"I'm here Sammy. I'm right here OK? You're not alone anymore."

"Hhhuurts..."

"I know, but I'm gonna stop the bleeding ok? So be still and stay with me. No sleeping on the job, OK?"

His brother only nodded, too weak to do or to say anything more and he tried bravely to stay awake, but with each passing minute, Sam's eyes became glassier and less focused. Five minutes later, blood loss and pain overwhelmed his system and he lost consciousness again. The only signs Dean had that his brother was still alive were his raspy breath and his weak, thready and way-too-fast pulse.

"Hey. Come on, wake up." He tried to rouse his brother, but Sam was out for the count.

Meanwhile, thanks to the pressure Dean was exerting on the wound, the bleeding has nearly stopped so he tied the shirt, using the sleeves as a tourniquet, to Sam's shoulder, so not to disturb the scab that was forming on the wound. The other injuries had already stopped by their own, so the bruises, cuts and burns were non-life-threatening and could wait until Dean got them to a more suitable place. The only other serious injury was Sam's back, it was a mess with lots of cuts that criss-crossed every bit of his skin, several of them deep enough to need stitches, but there wasn't anything the older hunter could do about it right now.

When he finished everything he could do he sat his brother up against his chest and covered him with his now bloody, leather jacket to conserve Sam's body heat and to prevent the progressing shock, because Sammy was already shivering, pale and sweaty.

Then he picked him up in his arms and began the way back to the Impala. It was time to leave this hell behind them so Dean could seek medical help and look after Sam. Dean was very aware that Sam was still very hurt, but he was sure he was going to be okay. He had to.

The journey back to the car was painful and difficult for both brothers because with every step Dean took, Sammy let out a gasp or a moan which dug deep into Dean's very core. But, the older hunter was determined to get his sibling out, so he picked a steady pace and never hesitated, Sam's weight and height no longer an inconvenience.

* * *

Finally, they arrived to the Impala, still parked and waiting on the side of the road, where Dean had left it.

Dean laid his brother gently on the backseat, placing Sam onto his back. He was aware that this position was probably painful given the cuts there, but it was the best he could do. Then, he grabbed a blanket from the trunk and proceeded to put it on top of his leather jacket to try to warm Sam up. _He's shivering so badly..._

When he was sure Sam was safe inside the car, Dean slid into the driver seat and started the engine, ready to drive as fast as he can to the nearest hospital or clinic. He would usually take care of the injuries by himself but Sam lost a lot of blood and it was possible that he had internal injuries from whatever the wizard did and those were something Dean did not want to mess around with.

Just as he was starting to drive the car a horrible reality about their situation struck him so hard that left him gasping and he had to stop the car.

There were neither hospitals nor clinics in at least 75 miles. Only rural doctors, because they were in the middle of nowhere.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God, he's gonna die._ Dean was beginning to seriously freak out as he was listening to his brother laboured breath. _He can't go that far in the state he's in, he's too weak. Shit! What do I do now? God he's gonna die._

Dean was losing it and panic was blinding him, so for a moment he felt so lost and desperate that the only thing he wanted to do was curl up beside his brother and wait for death to claim both of them.

_Get a grip, Dean. Sam needs you._

Dean didn't know where that thought came from, but it sounded a lot like his father's voice and it gave him the calm and security he didn't think he had anymore.

_OK. It's OK. Take a breath. This panic isn't helping either of us_.

Dean restarted the car as he made his mind and took off so fast that it seemed that every demon that existed were chasing them.

"Hang on. I'm going to get you some help, OK?" he was talking out loud more to calm his nerves than to his brother who was deeply unconscious and fighting so hard to keep breathing.

"I'm going to look after you now, all right? Don't worry. I gotcha."

Although the reassuring words fell on deaf ears, Dean kept driving as fast as his baby let him.

TBC

* * *

Here it goes the first chapter. The second part will be up in a few days. Please, review. Your opinions make me HAPPY.

Ally


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, here we are again guys! Chapter two ready for all of you so you can enjoy it. Thanks a lot for everybody who had read and had given me their supports, because it had meant to me a lot. Again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONCNICA! This one is for you! Love ya!**

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Dean Winchester wasn't angry. He was well past pissed. Somebody had took his brother and he was going to pay for it. Just wait. HurtSam and angry/protective Dean.

**Spoilers:** This story happenes in the first season. I don't think there's any spoilers, but I'm warning to be safe.

**Warnings: **In this story, there's lots of blood, cursing words, violence and some graphic details about injuries and torture. If you don't like this kind of things, please, don't read any further.

**Disclaimers: **I don't own anything!! All the things that you recognize belong to the show and its owner. I made this story for fun and not for money. The only thing I own is my dreams and my crazy imagination. I own Doctor Delis, his character is based on the best mentor I have ever had so far. He's one of the best doctors out there.

**Author's note: **I would like to thank Newpaper once again for all her time and patience. This two weeks had been a wonderful experience getting to work with you, getting to know you. You are a great teacher and I've learnd lots of things from you. Thanks for smacking me whenever I get too stubborn or too lost in my own mind, giving me back to my senses. You have been amazing and I hope that we get to work together again. THANKS HONEY! Until my next email. Soon.

Now with the story...........

* * *

CHAPTER TWO:

Upon reaching the motel, Dean carried Sam from the car and put him on the bed furthest from the door, covering him with a blanket. Then, keeping a watchful eye on his unconscious brother, called the local doctor from the yellow pages and explained that they had gone camping and his brother had disappeared for a while and, by the time he had found him, he had been severely injured, leaving out the part about the wizard. Thankfully, the doctor agreed to go to their motel room right away to check Sam over. While waiting, Dean tried to rouse his brother so he could get him to drink some water to no avail. So he began to disinfect Sam's back and other cuts.

Once the doctor arrived, he stopped dead in his tracks at the image he had in front of him. The room was already a mess, but what caught his attention and made his blood run cold was the young man lying on the far bed with another man leaning over him trying to help him. He was on his belly, with his upper torso naked, what left at plain sight the horrible injuries that were covering his back. Long, deep cuts were criss-crossing it in different directions, like someone had whipped him. _Probably had_. They were barely bleeding at the moment, but the doctor was sure they had at some moment, but right now, all he could see was the clearly signs of the infection which had already set in, because they were red and puffy with some pus leaking from them. But these cuts weren't everything, because the man, boy, really, looked horrible, all sweaty and pale with his raspy, shallow breath resounding in the silent room. And he was too still. Deathly still.

He couldn't believe the state the young man was in. _My God, what have I gotten myself into? This kid needs a hospital right now._ But he also knew how far the nearest one was and that this man wouldn't make it in time.

"Hi, I'm Jim Delis, but call me Jim." He shook Dean's bloody, trembling hand. This other man, who had been leaning over the injured one just a second ago, was looking at him with a calculated gaze, his features collected and hard. The man's stance and the fierce glint in his gaze just told the doctor that he was dealing with a desperate and, therefore, dangerous, person. _I just should get the hell out of here_.

"Dean, and this is Sam. My brother." The harsh, muttered, few words had a shiver travelling down the doctor's spine, and made it harder to look at the man's eyes.

"Dean, you're aware that Sam is very ill and should be in a hospital, don't you?" The old doctor said gently, as he was talking to a child and hoping to calm him a bit. He could see the older brother was near a nervous breakdown and if he was going to try to save the other one, he was going to need his help.

"Yes. But he's too weak. You just have to do everything you can and Sam will do the rest. He's strong, he will or I'll kick his ass from here to Canada" The empty joke was only a futile attempt to mask the panic and the pain that was visible in Dean's eyes. The doctor sighed.

"OK, Dean, let me take a look at him."

Dean reluctantly left his brother's side to give the doctor the space he needed, but he didn't go far. He began to pace around the room like a caged animal, passing his hand through his short hair every couple of minutes and cautiously eyeing every moment the doctor made, making Jim go crazy, so he tried to ignore the older brother with little success.

When Jim finished taking his patient's vitals and doing his exam, he looked sadly at the older brother, who was deep in his thoughts contemplating the younger man face as if expecting him to wake up and suddenly be okay. But Jim knew how far that was from the truth. He could see the deep bond between the brothers and how much the older one cherished the young one and made what he had to say more difficult.

"Dean, son." When he was sure he had the young man attention, he continued, "like I told you, Sam's extremely ill and weak. He's severely dehydrated, sunburned, has several cracked ribs, a couple which are probably broken, severe bruises, and a couple of burns on his torso. Worse, his back is a mess and infection has already set in. That's why his temperature is rising fast, making him even weaker." The doctor paused, taking a deep breath and giving a moment for his words to sink in. "Fortunately, he does not seem to have any internal injuries nor internal bleeding form the stab wound or the broken ribs. His lungs sound clear, but I can't be 100% sure without any advanced medical equipment like X-rays. Most troubling is the massive blood loss. He's in shock and I can't..."

"Are you saying that you can't help him?" Dean interrupted the old doctor. "Are you saying that he's going to die?" His voice cracked a bit at the end of the sentence, his desperation palpable.

"Without blood, fluids, rest... It could be a couple of hours. Through the night, the most."

"Give him some of mine! We've got the same type!"

The doctor was taken back with this shouted words, but he held his ground.

"Do you want me to do a direct transfusion here? No way, young man! It's too risky for both of you, if there's any complication it could..."

"What? Kill him?" The sarcastic tone was present in Dean's voice suppressing the pain and sorrow he felt. "Or me? I'm not planning on going on without him, doctor, so you don't have to worry about me." His mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. And Jim was sure that if he couldn't save the young man, he would lose two patients that night.

The doctor was speechless, all of this was crazy, but Dean was right. The kid couldn't get worse.

"You do everything you can, and he'll do the rest. He'll pull through. You just wait and see."

* * *

Three hours later, an exhausted Doctor Delis covered his still-alive patient with a blanket. He had done everything he could and now it was up to Sam. Fortunately, the doctor had enough medical equipment to stabilize him, such as antibiotics, painkillers, the tubing for the direct transfusion and sterile bandages with him. But he would have liked to have an IV to give his patient all the fluids he needed. _Guess they would have to try to wake the kid and force him to drink some Gatorade_. He only hoped that Sam wouldn't choke. If he got pneumonia on top of everything because of that, Jim was sure that he wouldn't survive.

But, right now, this young man was still alive and maybe, _a big maybe_, he could be saved. But Jim knew better than to hope for the impossible.

He had worked without stopping the last couple hours or so, doing all the work by himself, because Dean had been too exhausted and drained from the transfusions to do much more than soothe his brother, who had begun to be restless once he was given some blood.

The direct transfusions, that was the biggest craziness of this whole fiasco. If someone ever knew about it, Jim was sure he could lose his doctor license, but at the time, it was the only thing to do. Sam would be dead by now without it, he was sure of that.

First, Dean had helped him move the other bed so it was next to Sam's, and laid on it. Once the brothers were lying side by side, the doctor put the tubing in each of the brothers arms, then Dean pumped his fist over and over so his blood could go directly from him to Sam. And for Jim's surprise the procedure had went smoothly and without any complications. When it was finished, he took the older brother off the needle and forced him to eat something before he collapsed, and the doctor began to tending to the other injuries once the worst had been tended. First, Sam's back - _and, damn, it was really a mess_ - then, after he and Dean had carefully turn Sam so he was lying on his back, he worked on the stab wound and the other lacerations, cleaning and stitching them shut.

Now, three hours, lots of stitches, painkillers and antibiotics later the kid was stable and calm enough for him to relax a bit on a nearby chair and look over the brothers. While watching them, he knew he had done the right thing by staying. Dean had his younger brother propped against his chest and was trying to rouse him so he could give him some Gatorade with little success.

"Be careful, Dean. We don't want him choking on the drink."

"Don't you think I know that, Doctor?" The harsh and furious words and the way Dean spat the last word without giving him even a glance, reduced the old doctor to silence. Then, in a more gentle voice, Dean continue to coax his brother. "Come on Sammy, just a little sip..."

Sam grimaced in pain and half-opened his eyelids. His look was unfocused and Jim doubted he was fully conscious, but it was enough and he took a few sips of the bottle his brother was holding. Then, he fell unconscious once again. If Jim didn't know better, he could tell that he was only sleeping. But the reality was more frightening.

Although, Sam's temperature was a bit high, it was holding. Maybe they would spend the rest of the night and the next day in peace.

So, with that thought in his mind, he made himself more comfortable in the chair and drifted to a light sleep. _Someone has to look after those boys. Both of them. So I'm not going to go anywhere anytime soon._

* * *

And, damn, he had been wrong.

When the first rays of sunlight shone through the curtains, Dean's cries of help woke up the doctor from his slumber. He was on his feet in less than a second, and for the second time that night, he wasn't prepared for the image that greeted his sleepy mind.

Sam was thrashing, with his face flushed red with a very high fever and trying to rise from the bed, all the while mumbling and moaning deliriously, with Dean on his feet, pinning Sam, trying to restrain his fighting brother from hurting himself any further. The poor boy didn't know what to do and was looking at the doctor with a plea in his eyes, like he was some sort of a miracle healer.

Jim got out of his reverie and rushed to the brothers' aid. He took an ear thermometer and took Sam's temperature. _104.5. Shit! We've got to cool him down now._

"Dean, you've got to calm him!"

"Come on, Sammy. Calm down. You've got to calm down. Shhhh." Dean tried vainly to soothe him.

"Noooooo........ get off me......… Dean...… please." Sam squirmed under Dean's strong grip, his back arching from the mattress, his eyes glassy and unseeing.

"Dean.....… don't leave me."

"Come on bro, look at me. I'm right here."

Eventually Sam's struggles subsided a bit, because of his weak and pain-riddled body couldn't keep up the effort or because of Dean's soothing, Jim wasn't sure. He was too lost in his feverish dreams to notice even his own brother, still rambling nonsense, his mind lost in the terrible nightmares that were chasing him.

Suddenly, a coughing attack assaulted him and Dean sprang into action, pulling Sam up until his brother was sitting up, leaning heavily against his chest so he wouldn't choke, but instead of stopping, the coughing continued until Sam's gag reflex kicked in and before Dean and the doctor could do anything about it, Sam vomited all over himself and his brother, splattering the bed, the floor and even the doctor with the contents of his stomach.

"Lay him on his side, Dean, the last thing he needs is to aspirate and come down with pneumonia."

Dean rolled his brother onto his side and began to tenderly wipe Sam's face clean with the front of his flannel shirt.

"Dean, go to the bathroom and prepare a bath with lukewarm water, we've got to cool him down.

Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure of leaving his brother side, but then he made up his mind, and rushed into the bathroom to prepare his brother's bath.

When he returned to the main room, Jim had already prepared his brother taking out his clothes leaving him only in his underwear. Then, Dean picked his brother up in his arms and carried him into the bathroom placing him into the filled bathtub. He knelt down beside him, and with one hand, he made sure that his brother wouldn't drown, while washing away the rest of the filth with the other.

Through all of Dean's ministrations, Sam was still murmuring and struggling weakly to get free, but the illness was keeping him from doing much about the strong grasp that was pinning him in place. He couldn't understand what was happening and all he knew was pain, hot white pain. And he asked himself over and over again:

_Where's my brother?_

* * *

After this first incident the three of them fell into a routine during the next couple of days.

Sam, still unconscious and feverish, continued to wander through into his world of nightmares, delirious and getting weaker by the hour. Most of time, his fever was steady, high but not dangerous, and, as long as his brother was with him, he was quiet, calm. But, when the fever would spiked, Sam would be back in the forest opening, terrified and refusing, or unable to acknowledge his own brother until his fever was lowered again.

Dean, on the other hand, was worrying himself sick. He only left his brother side to make quick trips to the bathroom, and only took a break when Jim would force food down his throat or, even, slip sleeping pills into his drinks. He was pale and with back rings under his eyes which haven't been there a couple of days ago.

But, despite the doctor's efforts to help both brothers, Sam was getting worse and Dean was approaching a breaking point, and Jim just didn't know what more to do. He had to change the antibiotics after the first day, replacing the original course with a stronger one, but Sam was just to weak to fight the infection that was consuming his body. So, Jim gave into the reality of the situation and, making Sam as comfortable as he could, tried to find the nerve to prepare Dean for the inevitable.

And by the morning of the third day, Sam's fever spiked and didn't go down, the delirium lasting for hours as he fought relentlessly against Dean, who just didn't have the heart to restrain his sibling anymore.

And by nightfall, his fever went up even higher and Sam fell into a deadly silence, not answering to anyone or anything and Jim just knew that it was a matter of hours. He was so sure about it, he tried to prepare Dean, who wasn't having anything to do with it.

"Dean..." Jim began in a soothing tone.

"Shut up! You're not my father!" The rage and pain Dean was feeling was radiating from every pore of his body. _I don't believe it. This is not the end. Damn it! We're Winchesters, we always beat the odds_. The fury he was feeling was so intense that the only thing he could think about was punching that sorry excuse of a doctor who was giving up on his brother. But instead of doing this, a furious, painful howl escaped his lips and before he acknowledged his action he had knocked over the table, scattering all its contents across the floor.

"Dean! You've got to calm down, please." Jim pleaded, fear running through his body and freezing his blood. All his instincts were telling him to get away from that motel room, but his doctor sense won and he pleaded one more time while trying to restrain Dean. "Come on. You've got to calm down. This shit isn't helping your brother."

"Neither are you!" Dean shouted while he shoved the doctor off of him. He stood there in the middle of the mess he had created, panting and glaring at Jim, eyes shining with tears he'll never shed.

"But..."

"Don't. Just don't. You don't know Sam Winchester."

For the first time in all of his years as a doctor, Jim Delis had been wrong. Very wrong. And Dean Winchester was right. Very right.

Late in the morning of the fourth day, Sam's fever broke and he began to respond to the antibiotics. That night, sometime after midnight, he woke up.

* * *

The first thing Sam was aware was of the migraine pounding between his temples, and second that someone was holding his hand. After debating with himself for several minutes, his curiosity won out and he managed to open his eyes. For a moment, he could only see a blur of colours, but soon his vision cleared and he could look around.

He was in their motel room, identified by their few belongings scattered throughout the small space, but it was a mess, as though a tornado had ripped through it. There were trash, towels, papers, and glasses everywhere. The chair was out of its place with a strange man with a stethoscope hanging on his neck asleep in it.

He tried to move his hand, but found it to be held firmly in place. Looking down, he saw that Dean was asleep, fingers tangled with his. Easing his numb hand of Dean's grip, the movement startled his brother, who immediately propped himself up on one elbow, grinning madly.

"SAMMY! You're awake!"

His shouts woke up the other man who neared them with a big smile on his own face too.

"Well, it's good to see you awake at last."

Dean saw the confused look on his brother face and explained all to him.

"Hey." When he was sure he got his attention he continued, "This is Jim Delis. He's the doctor who had been taking care of you. Do you remember what happened?"

Sam took a moment to reconsider all of this and answered his brother, "Yeah, I think so."

"Well, you were in a pretty bad shape and Jim here saved you."

"Ummm.....thanks.....thanks a lot," Sam said to Jim, once again looking at him. "I'm sorry if I was a bother..."

"No, you haven't... You haven't been a bother, but now I would like to take a look at you." At Sam's nod, he looked at the older brother, who hadn't moved an inch. "Dean, do you mind?"

"What?" A startled Dean who was looking intently at his brother moved out the way to let the doctor have the space he needed "Of course, Jim."

By the time, he had finished his exam, Sam was yawing but Jim was happy with him. He was going to be OK.

"Well, everything looks great for now. You're going to be fine Sam. Now I want the two of you to get some rest. Do you hear me, boys? Both of you." He added looking pointedly at Dean.

"Yes, sir." Both boys were looking at him with innocent faces but the doctor was very aware of the naughty look in their eyes.

_Oh man, these boys are just trouble. They are screaming trouble. I seriously pity their poor father._

"Well, now that Sam's on the road of recovery, I'm going home and to get some groceries. I'll be back in the morning. Dean, you got my number, so if you need me..."

"Don't worry doc, we're good."

_I know it boys._

As Jim picked his things he listened to the sleepy conversation between the brothers.

"Hey Dean?" Sam yawned.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"I knew you'd come for me. I never doubted it."

"Of course. I'm Batman remember?"

Silence. And then:

"Mmmmm.....… Dean?"

"Yeah?" Another yawn, this time from Dean.

"What took you so long?"

As Jim was letting himself out of the room he overheard:

"Go to sleep, bitch."

"Jerk."

THE END

* * *

OMG; OMG; OMG!!!!!!! It's done!!!!!! I can't believe it!!!!!!!! This has been a difficult and intense story to write, but it worthed the effort. I hoped you like it guys and let me know what you think about it. Please review!!!!!!!!! Your reviews feed my imagination so I can continue to write!

Hugs and till the next story!

See ya!

Ally


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